Close call
by TiTivillus
Summary: Bobby and Sam have a heart-to-heart after Dean gets injured on a hunt. Bobby's POV, takes place any season :)


**Title:** Close call

**Author:** TiTivillus

**Summary:** Sam and Bobby have a heart-to-heart after Dean gets badly injured. How much can a hunter take, before he breaks? Hurt/Comfort, Bobby's POV

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to the show :) Just playing around...

**Notes:** Guys, I am a newbie at this so please bear with me. This is only my second story, and English is not my native language so mistakes are bound to happen :-S

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ooo

It was raining outside, heavy clouds darkening the evening sky. Bobby stood in front of the kitchen window, mesmerized by the reflection of light in the puddles on the ground. The sound of raindrops hitting the roof was a familiar lullaby, blending in with the steady rhythm of his battered heart. Bobby took a shaky breath. He couldn't remember the last time he had taken the time to do just that. Breathe.  
The moment of calm was interrupted by a hesitant knock on the wooden doorframe. Bobby turned around to see Sam standing in the doorway, lanky arms wrapped around his middle. "Hey,..." he said quietly, as if he was afraid to break the rare moment of peacefulnes. His face was ashen and a little thinner than Bobby remembered. The older hunter made a mental note to get Sam to eat something before he sent him to bed. By the looks of it, Sam hadn't had a decent meal in far too long and Bobby would be damned if he watched the idjit starve himself.  
"How's your brother?", the hunter gruffly asked as he snatched the bottle of Whisky from the table and poured them both a glass. Sam ran a hand over his weary face and slumped into a seat at the kitchen table. "Finally asleep. The Vicodin knocked him out flat."  
"Good. He needs to rest.", Bobby mumbled as he passed Sam the glass of Whisky. He didn't miss the way Sam's fingers shook when he lead the glass to his lips and gulped the burning liquid down. Today had been a close call, and they both knew it.  
They had almost lost Dean. Again. And there was no easy fix for that. Bobby knew from experience, that he would be plagued by nightmares for the next couple of weeks, his mind conjuring up images of Dean's mangled corpse in his dreams. It would take months for him to leave the memories behind. And it would take Sam even longer.  
"You should get some rest too, son. Why don't you go wash up while I fix you something to eat?", Bobby suggested as he gathered eggs and milk from the fridge, not even waiting to hear Sam's response. "Thanks Bobby, I appreciate it, but-"  
"No back talk, boy. You can't take care of your brother if you don't watch out for yourself."  
Bobby smiled to himself as Sam grudgingly complied and wandered off to the bathroom. He felt a little bad for playing Sam like that, but the younger hunter was visibly exhausted and Bobby needed to make sure they were both okay, or Dean would have his hide once he came around.  
Fifteen minutes later Sam had come back down, freshly showered and looking a little better already. Bobby flipped a steaming omlette on a plate and sat it down in front of the youngest Winchester. "How are you holding up?"  
Sam languidly shoved the omlette around on his plate, before taking a hesitant first bite. He didn't meet Bobby's eyes as he started talking. "It's not me you should be worried about."  
It was such a typical Sam response, that Bobby couldn't help but snort. "Who says I can't worry about both of you idjits?" Because god knew, these boys were supplying him with enough stuff to lose sleep over.  
"I'm fine", Sam said around a fork full of eggs and Bobby didn't even have to look at Sam to know he was lying. "Son...", he breathed slowly, not sure how he should broach the topic. "What Dean did today-"  
"What Dean did, was incredibly stupid and reckless!", Sam cut him off angrily, fork clattering on the table. His face twisted up as his composure crumbled and Bobby could see the fear and desperation flickering in his expressive eyes. The emotion Sam had managed to hold back ever since Dean got injured finally got the better of him and Bobby could only sit there and stare as Sam's eyes teared up, his breath coming in hasty, quickening gasps.  
"How could he do this to me, Bobby?", Sam choked out with a single tear running down his cheek. "He almost got himself killed today! I almost fucking watched him die!"  
Bobby stood up from his seat, heart clenching at the young man's pain. "But you didn't, Sam", he whispered, resting a heavy hand on the boy's trembling shoulders. "And that's all that matters for now."  
Sam swallowed thickly and couldn't keep his bottom lip from trembling. "I can't lose him, Bobby...I just- I can't, not again", he stammered as more tears cascaded down his reddened cheeks. Bobby had to fight off his own tears as he slowly moved his hand from Sam's shoulders to his neck and gently tugged him forward into a hug. He didnt's say anything, just stood there and held Sam while he cried, silently offering his support.  
After a while, as the quiet sobs faded and all Bobby could hear was the steady drum of raindrops against the roof, he finally dared to speak again.  
"Don't worry, son. You and Dean are gonna be just fine. I promise..."

**END**


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